


Fair Play

by perletwo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Imagine your OTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perletwo/pseuds/perletwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma takes the opportunity to have a little fun while on a HYDRA assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair Play

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an OTP Shenanigans entry, but it got away from me. The prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _Imagine your otp going to a carnival together and playing games and person B wins a huge teddy bear for person A_

“This must be the most ridiculous place for an intel handoff I’ve ever seen.”

 

Sunil Bakshi steered Jemma Simmons through the midway with a hand on the small of her back, grumbling irritably as they went. Both wore jeans and t-shirts, a leather bomber jacket over his and a light cardigan over hers, and Jemma kept fighting the urge to sneak glances at her erstwhile boss in the unfamiliar casual wear.

 

“We’ll be sharing a cart with our contact on the Ferris wheel. We’ve arranged for the wheel to ‘break down’ when we reach the top. Your job is to access the flash drive and check that the research lives up to its billing. If it does we make the exchange, and then we can get out of this godforsaken place.”

“Not a fan, I take it,” she muttered drily.

 

“Rigged games, overpriced food, aged and rusting rides, far too much dirt - what’s not to love?” he snapped back.

 

“C’mon. Didn’t you ever do this as a kid? Eat too much candy floss, plow into people in those little derby cars, win an unnaturally colored stuffed animal or ten?”

 

“No.” Bakshi’s flat tone put an end to the exchange, and they joined their contact in the Ferris wheel queue.

 

The intel proved out, to Jemma’s well-trained eyes, and a quarter hour later the trio separated, the Hydra agents satisfied and their contact a great deal richer.

 

“Really. You never came to a carnival like this when you were young?” she asked, giving him a side-eye.

 

“Certainly. It’s an excellent pick-pocketing ground.”

 

“And not even one little plushy penguin?”

 

He sighed. “I was a street rat, Miss Simmons. I only kept as much stuff as I could carry.”

 

They walked on for several minutes more, until Jemma jerked him into a stop. “Just a minute. I want to give this a try,” she said, pointing to a shooting gallery booth.

 

Bakshi sneered. “Rigged. You’ll never hit a target.”

 

Jemma gave him a long, hard stare, which he took with only the faintest hint of a smirk. She stalked over to the booth and slapped down a bill.

 

“Three shots. Hit the outer two rings and you pick from these, the next two in and you hit from these, and bulls-eyes get you these.” Done pointing to rows of prizes, he handed Jemma a rifle, poker face firmly in place.

 

Jemma coolly cracked open the housing and checked the ammunition; closed it back up and leveled it on her shoulder, tested the sight lines. Once she was satisfied she lined up her shot and placed three bullets in a tight ring around the bull’s-eye.

 

The carny whistled. “Nice. Double your money, do it again an’ you can level up to these,” he said, pointing upward, and she slapped down more bills and handed the rifle over for reloading. Once it was back in her hands she repeated her checks and calmly landed the same shots on a new paper target.

 

“Unh-huh. Make it a hat trick and you can get one’a the big guys,” the carny wheedled, and Jemma handed over her money and the rifle. He grinned and reloaded for her. Amused, Bakshi leaned against the edge of the booth and watched her go through the same routine.

 

She stopped in mid-check and pulled out the bullets. “These shots are too light,” she said with a sweet smile and handed them back across the counter. “Proper ammunition, please?” Scowling, he exchanged them for three fresh bullets, and Bakshi chuckled.

 

Jemma quickly landed her three bull’s-eyes and selected an enormous panda bear with a pear-shaped body and long floppy limbs, nearly as tall as she was. “Here, hold this.” She shoved the bear into Bakshi’s arms. Her smile was bright and genuine as they resumed their stroll down the midway, Bakshi struggling to balance the unwieldy stuffed animal.

 

“I’d have sworn that was rigged,” he mumbled over he bear’s head.

 

“Oh, it was. The sights were two-three degrees off plumb on that gun. I just adjusted my shots accordingly.” She shrugged. “Shameful, really, but I’ve fired worse. He’s lucky I didn’t whip a tool kit out of my bag and take the whole damn’ thing apart; I’d never have sent a SHIELD agent into the field with a gun that far off kilter. I have my pride, after all.”

 

“Noted; underestimating the innocent-looking Miss Simmons does Not Pay,” he said, and she laughed.

 

“Look on the bright side. Nobody watching us lug a bloody huge bear around here’s going to think ‘Goodness, those two shady characters must be spies here on a clandestine meet!’“

 

“True. Now then. What in the name of God are you doing to do with this thing?”

 

“Oh dear. No. You’re asking the wrong question.” She met his glare with a grin. “The question is, what are _you_ going to do with that thing?”

 

“Jemma -” Her firm head shake cut him off. “Nope. He’s all yours. Keep him, bin him, give him away, use him for target practice, burn him in sacrifice to the Dark God Ba’al, I don’t care. But now you can no longer say that never in your life has anyone won you a carnival toy.”

 

“I’ll mark that off my bucket list,” he muttered darkly, and adjusted the panda more firmly under one arm. “But if you try to stop for candy floss I’m taking the bear and leaving. You can find your own damn way home.”

 

Jemma laughed brightly, took his free arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. For their cover, of course.


End file.
